It feels like these days, there’s an awful lot to be stressed about. The world feels increasingly broken, with governments rolling back human rights, fuelling inequality, and, in some cases, committing atrocities with impunity. In many places, recession is in full swing, and cost of living is spiking like never before. Wars are being fought. It’s a time of chaotic, messy, and, frankly, ugly human behaviour which, inevitably, is going to leave a mark on pretty much any person, regardless of industry.
In the face of all this, the world’s creatives have to cut through, continuing to find ways to sell and promote. It’s an inherently tall ask – one which only grows larger when you consider that in the face of these aforementioned issues, there is an expectation to deliver while staving off an aggressive hustle culture, burnout, and growing client pressures. Yet, across agencies, people continue to find a way. From strong leadership structures, to policies that put wellbeing first, to the tactical implementation of self-care, it seems as though there are multiple different ways to preserve the creative spark required to do great work. The execution might just depend on who you ask.
To find out more, LBB’s Jordan Won Neufeldt heard from a variety of minds across the industry, from creative leaders to production experts, assembling their thoughts on just what it takes to protect creative energy in a time of crisis.
General manager and executive creative director at JvM NERD London
Creativity has always been a lifeline, but in times of crisis, it’s also one of the first things to suffer. Economic pressure, global instability, burnout, and existential dread don’t exactly set the stage for imaginative thinking. Yet, the world demands more creativity than ever. More content, more ideas, more magic, on an even tighter budget.
There’s a myth that pressure makes creatives thrive, but that’s rarely true. Chronic stress doesn’t sharpen creativity; it strangles it. Creativity needs space. It needs safety. It needs oxygen.
I’ve seen how fragile and vital creative energy is. It’s not infinite. It’s renewable, but only if nurtured. That means setting real boundaries, allowing for downtime, and reclaiming personal projects that exist purely for joy, not profit. These are acts of defiance in a hustle culture that too often rewards burnout.
For creative leaders, the role is even more critical. Protect your teams. Question urgency. Create room for process, not just product. Recognise that vulnerability and curiosity are strengths, not liabilities. And, most importantly, build community. Whether through collaboration, mentorship, or just a safe space to create without agenda, connection fuels resilience.
Creativity helps us make sense of chaos. It deserves to be protected. So protect your spark. Light others’ when you can. Because now, more than ever, it’s important to remember that we are still the storytellers.
Chief creative officer at M+C Saatchi Group Middle East
Most creative leaders didn’t get promoted for their nurturing skills. They got there because they’re really good at doing. Crafting. Solving. Saving the pitch at two in the morning with nothing but caffeine, panic, and sheer brilliance. That’s how you move up: by running toward the fire, pushing past reasonable limits, and delivering greatness no matter the cost (sleep, sanity, relationships… minor details). And the unspoken hope from the powers-that-be? That your personal brand of high-functioning chaos somehow ‘inspires’ everyone else.
But here’s the catch. Without the tools to actually lead, we default to what we know: sprinting into the flames and dragging the team with us. And those flames? They’re everywhere. Pandemics, recessions, client pressure, burnout… and closer to home, war. Sprinting into it all isn’t leadership.
A better strategy? Stop, and for the love of good work, listen. Creative leaders are often deeply empathetic. When it comes to client briefs and target audiences, we tune in, we get it, and we shape the work with authenticity and care. But under fire, that same empathy gets left on the boardroom floor, especially when it comes to our own people.
Empathy isn’t fluffy. It’s functional. It’s how I understand what my team’s actually carrying – not just the brief, but the baggage. Their insecurities, imposter syndrome, financial pressure, creative block, or just a toddler who hasn’t slept through the night. So I ask. I adjust. I give them space to stumble without panic. Because guess what? The best ideas rarely arrive wearing perfection. They come in messy, half-baked, and weird – needing room to grow, without being judged on entry.
In chaos, overcommunication becomes a gift. Clarity becomes oxygen. Small wins? We celebrate them. A great deck slide? Applause. A solid headline? Confetti. Made it in by 10? Party horn emoji. And here’s the thing: creatives need to make. So say yes more. Yes to side projects. Yes to play. Yes to inspiration away days. Yes to working from the pub (or coffee shop). Yes to renaming ‘creative review’ to ‘creative collab’, or ‘client presentation’ to ‘client co-creation’, because the words we use shape the energy and behaviour in the room from ‘I’m being judged’ to ‘I’m feeling supported’. If that means instituting ‘No Presentation Mondays’ so people don’t lose their weekends to Google Slides hell? So be it. Weekends are sacred. Keynote is not.
I’m no expert. But I am learning that to be an effective creative leader who nurtures and protects creativity, one has to be part coach, part therapist, part chaos navigator. And above all, just a little more human.
Head of strategy at No Single Individual
I came into the advertising industry when the height of creative culture was table tennis games between meetings and colourful exercise balls instead of boring old office chairs. Back then, the idea was: if the office felt playful, the work would stay inspired. Perks were the buffer – the thing that made long hours feel a little less like work.
Today, creative teams don’t need unlimited single-origin cold brew or a shout-out session in the all-agency channel. They need boundaries. Clarity. Resources to do the job. Leadership that doesn’t just model stamina, but models calm. Pressure is a constant now, and adrenaline can’t be the only thing fuelling the work.
What I’ve seen – across agencies, clients, and internal teams – is that the most resilient creative cultures aren’t built on schtick. They’re built on trust, pacing, and the radical act of letting people come up for air. That’s how you stay creative when the heat’s on – not by pushing through it, but by designing a system that doesn’t depend on burnout or flashiness to deliver.
Global chief creative officer at Iris
Energy feeds energy. The right amount of busyness is actually what drives excellence, in my opinion. Not being able to overthink, forced to lean into your gut and intuition. Taking the leap because you have to. These are all great ways to do things differently, and for creativity in general, I actually think boredom is a much larger threat.
It’s true that there’s a lot more noise surrounding our jobs, in culture and life in general these days, but I believe the best creatives have always been able to filter it all out and focus on the task in hand. And they chase that all that way, until something brilliant makes its way out there.
Protecting creativity has more to do with confidence and conviction. The outside stresses go away when there is belief that your answer is the right one. When you are doing things you love and are excited about, that’s what gets you through all of it.
Creative director at Cutwater
First off, we’re dealing with some incredibly heavy issues at the moment. Who isn’t heartbroken by the tragic events we’ve kept hearing about over the last half decade: wars, a tumultuous stock market, and a global pandemic? The world feels more chaotic than ever. Honestly, just writing this sentence is stressing me out!
But here’s the thing, we’re creatives, and I’ve always seen creativity as our own special refuge. It’s a safe space to jump into – to write, draw, design, animate, or do whatever it is that helps you lose yourself and reconnect with what you love.
As leaders, we need to actively remind and encourage our teams to go do that – in their space – and that they can retreat to it, recharge, and flex their creative superpowers.
The world feels more divided and surreal every day. So, if you ask me, creativity is more important than ever. The world needs us to bring something meaningful, something delightful, and something human.
One last thing: we’re making ad campaigns. This should be fun. I’ve never understood the constant stress – it doesn’t serve the work. Overthinking and pressure just get in the way. We’re not performing brain surgery. So, let’s lighten up, lean in, and make something that makes people smile… or better, dare I say, laugh.
Creative director at Havas London
Creativity demands resilience. Your ideas will get shot down, reshaped, or merged, often for good reason. And with the current state of the world, it’s clear that resilience is more essential than ever. But it’s not all doom and gloom! Hard times often spark the best creative challenges. During covid-19, some fellow creatives and I launched ‘Open Soon’ to help save the Vagina Museum from closure, generating huge global PR and tens of thousands in donations to help the museum stay open. Without the pandemic, that idea wouldn’t have existed, nor would the many others I’ve worked on with the museum since.
Like I did with that very project, I try to protect my creative energy by seeking projects and opportunities outside of my day-to-day role, along with writing short films. It might sound counterintuitive (yes, more work!), but I’ve learnt my personality feeds off action, so when the chips are down, creating something – anything – gets my flow back.
I also lean on simple things: walking the dog, a lunchtime pint with colleagues, watching short films. Having good inspirational and conversational input helps you have a good creative output – something I always encourage other creatives to make time for.
Partner and chief creative officer at Venables Bell + Partners
Creativity needs room to breathe, as well as space to be curious, mess around, and think things through. And that’s especially true when the pressure’s on. The instinct is usually to move faster, get things done, and fix the problem. But the best creative work doesn’t come from panic mode. It shows up when people have the freedom to slow down, take risks, and chase weird or unexpected ideas.
That’s where creative leaders come in. Part of the job is protecting that space. It’s easy to fall into survival mode, but the real magic happens when you build a culture that values balance over burnout. That means trusting your team to manage their own time, encouraging boundaries, and showing up in a way that models a healthier pace.
This industry asks a lot from people. But the truth is, the best ideas usually start outside of work. In real life. In lived experience. In everything that has nothing to do with a deadline. So, we have to protect space for that too.
Even when things feel chaotic, whether it is economic, social, or personal, creativity can still thrive. But only if we treat it like a resource that needs to be refuelled – not just one that gets used up.
Creative director at TBWA\London
Last week, I went to Do Ho Suh’s ‘Walk the House’ exhibition at the Tate. There were immersive fabric installations made with incredible detail, and framed pieces that looked like watercolour, until you got closer and saw they were painstakingly made from thread.
I stroked my chin and tried to look thoughtful like the other art-goers, but I didn’t really understand it. What I did realise, however, was that I couldn’t remember the last time I stepped foot in a gallery. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done something to recharge my creative battery.
When it comes to creativity, you are what you eat. So, you need to dine out on art, design, writing, random knowledge, and stupid memes from time to time. They all become data points you can draw on and connect to create your work. Staying curious and inspired makes you better at your job, and when you run out of juice, the sucking can set in. I’ve felt it. Your work starts to feel expected, dated and missing that spark.
Refuelling has never come easily for me; I tend to get sucked into the work vortex. So, if you’re like me, you need to make it a priority. It may seem indulgent to take an hour or two off work to see some art, a movie, or just go for a walk, but it’s not. You need to give your brain a break from emails and meetings, and feed it something different. Everyone will benefit if you’re re-energised and firing on all creative cylinders.
We seem to be busier than ever – with more stress looming over us – so it’s easier said than done. And that’s why creatives need to be given permission to get out there. To make the time and make the most of their down time. Our job is creativity under pressure, and it becomes much easier to perform on a full tank of gas.
Watch out for some Korean thread-inspired ideas at TBWA!
Executive creative director at Fold7
The greatest music producers, like Rick Rubin and Quincy Jones, know that getting creativity to flow is all about creating the conditions for it. It’s so much about scene setting. While a deadline creates urgency, panic and stress are kryptonite to creativity. Fear makes us contract; creativity is about bravery and expansiveness.
To keep the flow state, there are two fundamentals. First you need some kind of protected, daily practice in which you look after yourself. This could be mindfulness and meditation, it could be running or swimming – even for only 10 minutes. The key is consistency. For instance, I never, ever sleep in the same room as my phone. It’s about protecting calm, clear space.
Second, rigid hierarchy is great for armies in combat… but to be creative in times of pressure, you have to loosen the department hierarchy and stand on the tipping point between some kind of minimal, viable structure, and anarchy. It’s not about stamping your authority on something. It’s about putting the right combination of people in the room and making sure each is playing the parts that they’re good at. Allow dissent, encourage ‘stupid’ questions, accept that creativity is chaotic, and trust the process.
Associate creative director at Uncovered
How do creatives stay creative in times of high stress? I personally rely on my own set of creative tools. I have logical systems, resources and processes that I’ve built over the years which I pull on so I don’t have to approach every brief from scratch.
Some people may say that’s not a very creative way of doing things at all. But when you’re asked to deliver 50-ish new ideas every month, the idea of approaching a brief unsystematically and relying on a lucky shower thought spins me out. If my brain understands it’s chipping away at a task, it relaxes. (Probably because it can see I’m getting somewhere and I’m not going into a review with nothing, or worse, bad ideas).
Every professional relies on tools. Why should ad creatives be any different?
As for how leaders can nurture and protect creativity in their teams, I try to implement systems and environments where teams can make the most of their creativity. People are human, so I give them space to be wrong but I also ask them to fix their own mistakes. This is how I learned to wrangle my creativity into something a client can buy.
If I recognise that someone is passionate about an idea that isn’t landing, I’ll defend it and help them craft it until they get it to the best possible place. Knowing your manager wants to help you alleviates everybody’s stress and fuels people's passion to deliver great work going forward.
Sometimes, I also ask them to stop. It’s tempting to craft ideas into the early hours, but after a good night's sleep, you’ll be able to get that slide to where it needs to be the morning after, and you’ll still have lots of juice left for the rest of the day. Also, leave your laptop in the office as often as possible.
Creative director at Bright Blue Day
All it takes is a decent brief, a clear mind, and a bit of headspace, right? Not any more. Most of us are just about functioning in a state of constant semi-crisis; individually, socially, politically, and professionally. Budgets, deadlines and resources are stretched thin. The space to down tools and walk away from the problem is rare.
As a CD, my job used to be about directing. Now, it’s more about guiding and protecting time, energy, and sanity. Creativity doesn’t happen in panic mode. But inspiration does thrive in chaos. In that chaos, we’re leaning harder into AI and tech – not to replace the thinking, but to get to something worth thinking about, faster. We use it to rough something out, test a tone, or explore a direction.
The real value lies in what we creatives do with it. Prompts matter, but taste matters more. Experience tells you what to ignore. It still needs a creative to make it sing, to spot what’s interesting, push past the obvious, and make something that resonates. Used well, it’s not about productivity. It creates momentum; room to let our ideas breathe, and for the craft to shine through again.
Executive creative director at Ogilvy
The ability to feel has always fuelled the creative process. That’s why creatives tend to have greater levels of empathy. So, it’s completely natural for all of us to experience heightened sensitivity during these times.
My biggest motivator has always been the meaningful impact I make with my leadership. The ability to see potential, inspire, invest in my team’s growth, and build a genuine connection with them surpasses everything. That also means future-proofing their careers to handle adversities, personal tragedies, or being fully ready for the world of AI.
A few small practical things that have helped me include: problem solving together, fostering a culture where failure is part of the process, emphasising the importance of joy in creating art beyond advertising, and not forgetting to take time off to truly experience life, whether it’s for family, self-care, travel, music, or art. The heart of great advertising is the ability to spark a human emotion. Living and breathing life in all its glory and staying true to human truth is what will set us apart in a world hungry for real meaning.
Executive producer at Open Swim
Creative vitality demands space and time to breathe. The most challenging of circumstances can lend so much weight to creative communications. And it’s times like this that fuel what we do. When we’re all feeling creatively spent, try to lean on pretty simple solutions. My top three are to make in another space, become an active audience, and to lean on the team.
To reframe, experimenting with cooking or some other unrelated activity can flex the creative muscle in a space where the stakes are low. Similarly, to be engaged as a consumer keeps you in the industry, but allows you to be inspired and learn while enjoying what other people have made. It can be a real relief to accept the role of the audience, and we make time during our company meetings to talk about what we’re consuming (at galleries, on TV, in books, or at the theatre).
Lastly, teamwork strengthens the individual. When our directors are brainstorming, I encourage them to turn to each other, and they even come to set to support each other. It can be lonely and draining at the top, so we try not to put anyone there.
Creative director, Canada at Momentum Worldwide
Creative funks happen. The headline news is scary. Creative decks don’t fill themselves. Our day-to-day lives are full of ‘what if’ moments we can’t control. But what we can control is how we frame the day ahead.
I like to think about the good kind of ‘what if’. What if I watch ‘Detroiters’ to make myself laugh? What if I say, “The hell with it”, swing for the fences, and not care if I strike out? What if I take my dog for a walk, and get inspired while playing fetch at the park? What if, in 10 minutes, my team lands the best idea of their careers on the hardest brief they’ve ever touched? What if today’s soundtrack feels more like The Beatles than The Smiths?
So yeah, creative funks happen, but so do creative sparks, often out of nowhere. In sweatpants. Mid-walk. Mid–season three of ‘Arrested Development’. Mid–‘why not?’. What if the best ideas don’t come from trying harder, but from trying happier? It might sound lame, but joy isn’t fluff. It’s fuel.
Director at Tinygiant
When work is low, I sometimes feel like I disappear; as if I only exist in the eyes of the industry when something shiny is happening. It’s a bit of a toxic loop: the dopamine hits with new jobs, someone saying 'love this', or people clapping. And when that goes quiet, it’s very easy to spiral. A lot of us have tied our identity too tightly to the work – especially in commercial creativity, where so much of what we make is fast, public, and rooted in external validation.
One thing that helps me protect my creative energy in the long run is being real. Talking honestly to other creatives. Sharing the mess, not just the highlight reel. Reminding each other that you don’t need to be constantly booked or visible to still be a valuable artist.
Another important thing is staying creative just for myself. Finishing a script that’s been laying around for a year. Doing a test shoot with my mates that has no end client and no pressure – just colour, chaos and fun. Those are the things that remind me why I do this in the first place.
As a director, I try to bring that sincere energy to the set. I’m not pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. There’s no false bravado, just care, openness, and a bit of dark humour. We need less 'success theatre' and more space to breathe. That’s where resilience starts. Not from being tough, but from being supportive.
Creative partner at Beyond
Somewhere between Cardigan Bay and Fishguard is a secret beach that has become my mental escape hatch from adland life. To reach it, I drive for three hours until I hit a small, unmanned carpark in a moody Pembrokeshire pentref. Engine off, I pull on my nearly-new walking boots and overpriced windbreaker, and hike for an hour or so until I get to a large open field. Stomping through crispy cow turds and soft molehills, I reach a narrow, single-track pathway that ends abruptly at a cliff’s edge. I take a deep breath and lower my long legs and ample belly down over the crest and onto a small ridge.
From here it’s a petrifying scramble down 40 feet of slate until I hit the soft, untouched sand below. The secluded location – and the treacherous way it’s accessed – means it’s always deserted. After a moment or two, I strip off and stride out into the sea, leaving my possessions in a small pile behind me on the shore. Now, completely submerged under the cold waves, I close my eyes and I feel truly unburdened. I am no longer an advertising executive person. I am the entire unexplored universe, and all my corporate responsibilities, meeting requests, and endless unopened emails are a distant space cloud, floating one billion lightyears away – somewhere unreachable by humankind. I then walk back to dry land, get dressed, and feel as smug as a wasp in a bowler hat. I begin my long climb back up to normal life.
Over the years I’ve come back to this spot more times than I can remember. Sometimes for real, but more often than not, just inside my head while I’m sitting on the bus.
Creative lead and partner at Biborg
In gaming, passion is our driving force, even in times of stress. We’re lucky to work on diverse projects rooted in different cultures, which keeps us open-minded and constantly curious. We look at the best of what’s being done out there, explore new creative paths, and adapt to ever-evolving platforms. Technical constraints? We see them as playgrounds – opportunities to twist the specs and spark unexpected ideas.
As a creative lead, I try to pass on this mindset to my team. Stay playful, flexible, and always be hungry to reinvent the rules.